Silver Lining
by tocourtdisaster
Summary: COMPLETED What if we can't just fit back into the Shire? What if we're considered outcasts? What if it turns out that it would have been better had we never returned home? Pippinangst, post Ring War NO slash, profanity, or violence
1. The Questions

**_Disclaimer: _**All names, characters, and places are property of Tolkien Enterprises, with which I am in no way affiliated. I am receiving no payment for the writing of this story. I wrote this purely for entertainment purposes. 

I'd like to send a heartfelt thanks out to _**shirebound**_ for being such a wonderful beta. Thanks for putting up with all of my grammatical errors. :)  


*.*.*.*.* 

_"A silver lining sometimes isn't enough to make some wrongs seem right." --Creed, "Don't Stop Dancing"___

*.*.*.*.* 

"It's not fair." 

I jumped slightly at the sound of my cousin's voice, so absorbed with my own thoughts that I hadn't heard him approach. I hadn't been expecting him to visit Frodo and Sam, so I hadn't been listening for him. For probably the first time in his life, Pippin was able to sneak up on me. 

"Aren't you on orders from Aragorn to remain in your bed?" I asked, turning a critical eye on him. "You're still recovering, Pippin, and you need your rest or else it will take even longer before you're as good as new." 

"I'm fine, Merry, really." His words, though, were belied by the way he was standing. He was leaning heavily on a small branch that he used as a walking stick when the healers let him up from his bed, and I could see that he was putting no weight at all on his right leg. What parts of him not covered by his nightshirt were still horribly bruised, even though a week had passed since the battle where he had almost been killed. "I just want to see how Frodo and Sam are doing, see how they're recovering." 

No matter how much I could argue with him, I knew that he wouldn't budge until he had gotten his way, so I gestured to the other chair in the tent, into which he gratefully sank. As he looked upon our cousin and friend, I could see the worry in his eyes, the pain marring his features. 

"Pip, are you all right?" I asked worriedly. "Are you in pain? Do you want me to go get a healer?" 

Pippin didn't seem to hear me, but continued to silently stare at our sleeping friends. Just as I was getting up to retrieve a healer, though, he began to speak. His voice was so quiet that I almost didn't hear him at first. 

"It's not fair, Merry," 

Though I didn't completely understand what Pippin meant, those four words broke my heart and nearly brought me to tears. The way his voice cracked and the single tear that made its way down his battered cheek made me want to rush to his side and tell him that everything would be all right. But I knew instinctively that doing that would cause him to break down, and I could tell that he still had more to say. "What's not fair, Pip?" 

For a long moment, Pippin didn't answer, but I didn't pressure him. Something was obviously grieving him; it wouldn't help matters any if I pushed him into revealing his thoughts. He would speak when he was good and ready, and not a moment sooner. I could wait. 

"Do you remember, the summer before old Bilbo left, when you and Frodo taught me how to swim?" Pippin's voice was low, but I had no trouble hearing him over the distant murmur of the camp around us. 

"Aye, I do," I told him, the memories of that day coming back to me as if no time had passed since then, though it had been almost seventeen years previous. 

"I was so excited to be learning how to swim," he continued. I could see a smile starting to form on his face as he remembered that day. "It was all I could talk about for days. I was so happy that my father let you and Frodo teach me, instead of taking it upon himself. It was so much more fun with you two." He paused to take a deep breath. "As soon as I got in the river, I latched myself onto Frodo. The river was so deep and I realized that Frodo's parents had died in that water. I was scared to death. I wouldn't let go for anything, not my parents or my sisters or even you, Merry." 

Pippin turned to look at me and for the first time, I realized that he had grown up. There was a maturity and wisdom in his eyes that only being bloodied in battle can give. And he had definitely been bloodied. When the troll had fallen on him, he hadn't been crushed, but he had still been badly injured. He had several cracked ribs, his arm had nearly been sliced off where his sword had been pushed back into him, his ankle had been broken, and he was badly bruised all over his body. But he would survive and thrive once he healed. 

But now, he no longer looked like my much-loved younger cousin. He looked like a soldier, seasoned to the battlefield. He looked like an old man, weary of all that he had seen in his long life. He looked like what I imagine I looked like at the time. 

Looking back to the two unconscious Hobbits, Pippin continued. "But, somehow, Frodo coaxed me into letting go of my death grip on his neck. He took me to the bank and walked with me into the river, at my own pace, holding tight onto my hand the whole time." The smile disappeared from Pippin's face as he closed his eyes, sighing. "We had so much fun that day, singing and splashing each other. I didn't learn to swim that day, but you and Frodo were patient with me, and before the summer was over, I was swimming as well as a fish." 

Pippin paused in his recitation. His breathing was deep and measured, like he was concentrating on holding back tears. His head was leaned back so that he was facing the ceiling of the tent, though he couldn't see it through his closed eyes. His bruised hands were clenched into fists on his lap. 

"We were so carefree and innocent back then," he stated, his voice choked off slightly. "This whole year has been a dark cloud, marring our perfect sky, and I fear some part of it will always remain. We've all lost our innocence and we will never regain it. We will never again be like we were that summer. We've all seen and experienced too much to ever be like that again. **_ That_** is what's not fair, Merry." 

"Pip." My heart was breaking for my dear cousin. Tears were now coursing down his cheeks, pouring past his closed eyelids. He was shaking horribly, though with anger or grief I couldn't tell. "Oh Pip." I forced my suddenly leaden limbs into motion and I went to Pippin's side and gently embraced him. 

Leaning into me, Pippin buried his face in my shoulder. I gently rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. "Every dark cloud has a silver lining, Pippin, including this one. You must try to see that," I whispered earnestly into his ear. "At least we're all alive and on the way to good health. We'll all go back to the Shire and try to go on with our lives. Things won't ever go back to how they used to be, but we'll make a new normal life for ourselves." 

"What if we can't?" Pippin burst out suddenly, pulling away from me with more strength that I thought he possessed at the moment. "What if we can't just fit back into the Shire? What if we're considered outcasts? What if we all get treated like Bilbo was after his return from his adventure? What then, Merry?" 

For a moment, I couldn't respond. I was too flabbergasted. Pippin was very upset, and had obviously put a lot of thought into this. I couldn't just blurt out the first thing that came to mind. After a long moment of thought, all I could come up with was, "I don't know, Pip. I just don't know." 

Before either of us could say anymore, the flap of the tent was lifted and Gandalf entered. "I thought I might find you here, when I couldn't find you in your bed, Master Peregrin," he said jovially, a smile upon his face. He didn't seem to take any notice of the tension in the room or the tears on Pippin's cheeks, or if he did, he had the good taste not to mention either. "Now that you've seen Frodo and Sam, it's time for you to return to your own bed and rest." 

Before he could be lifted up and carried away, Pippin leaned in close to my ear. "What if it turns out that it would have been better had we never returned home?" 

Long after Pippin had been taken away to his bed, his question still haunted me. Though I thought it over long and hard, I never was able to come up with an answer.   


**_*TBC*_**   
**__** **__**

**_Author's Notes:_** I know Pippin might seem a little out of character, but I tried to portray him as a Hobbit afraid and uncertain of the future. He's a grown Hobbit now, so I tried to portray him as such. I'll try to have the conclusion to this story up in a few days, as soon as I can get it typed up and beta read. 


	2. The Answer

_**Disclaimer: **_See previous chapter.  
  
Once again, a heartfelt thanks to _**shirebound**_ for helping me make this story more enjoyable. Thanks for your help!!  
  
*.*.*.*.*  
  
"Merry? Merry? Meriadoc Brandybuck?"  
  
With a slight start, I realized that I was being spoken to and that I hadn't heard a word of it. Chagrined, I turned to look at the speaker and found him much amused. There was a brilliant smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye that promised some sort of mischief.  
  
"I'm sorry, Pippin, what were you saying?" I asked, shaking my head to rid me of the memories that had been troubling me. I hadn't thought about that day in years, but Pippin's question still bothered me greatly.  
  
"You're getting old, but you shouldn't yet be to the age where you start dozing off in the middle of a party," Pippin said, leaning over the table towards me. "Really, Merry, you're acting like some old gaffer."  
  
"I am not acting like an old gaffer, my dear Pippin," I told him somewhat huffily. "And I was not dozing off. I was merely thinking."  
  
"It must have been quite a thought. You quite missed my birthday speech because of your 'thinking.'" Rather than becoming upset, Pippin instead chose to rib me about it. "But I still think you were sleeping, though I don't know how that's possible, with all the noise."  
  
I just shook my head at Pippin's stubbornness and raised my ale mug to my lips to hide my frown. I had no idea why the memory of that day in Ithilien had suddenly come to my mind, unbidden. It had been so vivid, almost as if I was reliving the experience, which was in no way pleasant.  
  
Setting my mug back on the table in front of me, I surveyed the party. Instead of celebrating his birthday in Tuckborough, Pippin had opted to have his party in Hobbiton, under the now-large mallorn tree. Tables were set up all around the Party Field, lamps hung from the lowest branches of the mallorn, and singing and dancing abounded. It reminded me a bit of old Bilbo's last party here, except without the exceptional fireworks.  
  
Across the circle of the "dance floor," I could see Estella, Diamond, and Rosie sitting with some other lasses that I didn't recognize. Young Elanor, Frodo, and Rosie-lass sat at their mother's feet, listening attentively to some tale or another from one of the lasses. Diamond was holding Rosie's youngest, little Merry-lad, in her arms, and was rocking him gently. Estella was holding a sleeping Pippin-lad, absentmindedly rocking him back and forth. Rosie was laughing at some joke, her hands resting lightly on her swollen belly.  
  
Pippin must have noticed my sudden silence. He looked to me, then to the lasses, then back to me, his eyes now devoid of any mischief. The only thing filling his eyes now was his very evident love for his wife. "Diamond will make a wonderful mother someday," he said slightly wistfully.  
  
"Aye, she will," I murmured, studying my cousin. It didn't seem possible that this Hobbit was the same one that questioned me about the future all those years earlier. That Hobbit had been scared to death, uncertain of the future and our happiness. He had grieved for our lost innocence, wondered if we could ever go back to some semblance of normality. This Hobbit, though, was as happy and carefree as he could be. He had a beautiful wife whom he loved dearly and his future laid out before him. He wasn't scared of the future, but impatient for its arrival.  
  
"I'm sure Estella will make a wonderful mother as well," Pippin added hastily, misinterpreting my silence for something it wasn't. After a moment, he said, "You, Sam, and I married the best lasses in the entire Shire, Merry. They're beautiful, smart, and kind. They're everything we aren't." I smiled; Pippin wasn't giving himself enough credit.  
  
We lapsed into a companionable silence, just watching the party go on about us: folks talking and laughing, lads and lasses dancing, children running about in pure delight. This was the Shire at its best and purest: Hobbits just enjoying life and each other's company.  
  
"Pippin, do you remember that day in Ithilien when you snuck from your bed to visit Frodo and Sam?" I asked quietly, not wanting anyone but Pippin to hear my words. No one else would know what it was we were speaking about, but still, I wanted to keep it private.  
  
Pippin turned to look at me and asked, "Which time?" but then realization dawned in his eyes. He must have seen something in my own eyes because he bowed his head and rested it in his hands. "Yes, Merry, I remember that day and every word I said to you."  
  
I waited until he looked up at me before I continued. "I think I've finally come up with an answer to your questions. None of that could ever happen Pippin. We're from good families. People will forgive our oddities and say nothing more of them. Hobbits are, by nature, forgiving and tolerant. They even got used to old 'Mad Baggins' after some time."  
  
I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts before continuing. "If we hadn't returned, we never would have found this happiness, nor given it to Diamond, Estella, and Rosie. We couldn't have known about it before, but we had to trust that things would work out for the best, and they did. Yes, Frodo left, but he would have still gone had we not come home. At least this way he was able to glimpse our happiness, easing his pain a little. Don't you see, Pippin, that not coming home would have been the worst possible thing to do?"  
  
Breaking eye contact with me, Pippin looked back to where our wives were sitting. Sam had come over to them and taken little Pippin-lad from Estella. Rosie was now holding baby Merry-lad, and she and Sam were herding their almost asleep children towards Bag End. Diamond and Estella looked up and smiled at us. Standing, they started to make their way over towards our table.  
  
"I see it now," Pippin answered me, "but I wasn't able to see it then." He turned to look at me, a smile covering his face. "Thank you for making me come home and not letting me stay in Gondor, Merry."  
  
"It was my pleasure, my dear cousin," I told him, matching his smile with one of my own.  
  
"I trust you lads have been behaving yourselves while we've been gone?" Diamond asked as she sat down beside her husband.  
  
"Now, Diamond dear, what have I told you about holding your expectations too high?" Estella asked, sitting beside me and slipping her arm through mine. "You're supposed to ask if they stayed out of _too much_ trouble."  
  
"Of course, Estella," Diamond said, laughing lightly. "I had forgotten. Thank you for reminding me."  
  
"No problem, my dear." Estella turned to look at me. "So, what _were_ you lads doing all this time?"  
  
"Oh, just remembering old times," Pippin answered cheerfully. "Isn't that right, Merry?"  
  
"Of course," I said, smiling widely. Pip and I had both learned our lesson. There was no need to involve the lasses. "We were just speaking of how good it is to be home."  
  
  
_**  
The End**_  
  



End file.
